


Little Red

by LadyStrangeandUnusual (Dream_Wreaver)



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Tropes, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Musicalbabes, Roleplay, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/LadyStrangeandUnusual
Summary: "Hey there little red riding hood/ you sure are lookin' good/ you're everything, a big bad wolf could wantHey there little red riding hood/ I don't think little big girls should/ go walkin' in these/ spooky old woods alone"Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs, "Little Red Riding Hood"
Relationships: Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Little Red

**Author's Note:**

> Who likes slightly darker fairy tale retellings? This girl! Sorry it's a bit late but merry christmas to those who celebrate, here's my gift to you. Hope you enjoy it!

Lydia Deetz was not one afraid of much. How could she be, when she lived in a genuinely haunted house? Not that the ghosts who lived there were particularly _scary_ by any means. Adam and Barbara Maitland were perhaps the least scary ghosts one could ever conceivably imagine. Not surprising, considering how boringly suburban they had been before their tragic accident. But they were the types of parental figures one could have argued Lydia needed. Having lost her biological mother, Lydia and her father were still working through their issues. They were family, but they weren’t _family_. And Delia, well, Delia didn’t always get it, but at least she attempted to be a part of it. Except Delia’s passion was a lot of new age lifestyle elements that Lydia just found incredibly irritating, so she couldn’t exactly say she enjoyed spending more than five minutes with her stepmother. Lydia was a bit of a loner by nature, which explained why her dearly departed mother had been her whole world, but even with her new family by her side she felt that need to get away from them every now and again. Which brought her to today,

“Lydia dear, good morning!” Barbara said as she stood with Delia in the kitchen. Lydia took a seat at the breakfast bar and waited patiently. Barbara always worried about whether or not Lydia was eating enough, and Delia was learning how to cook from the former homemaker.

“Morning Barbara, morning Delia,” Lydia greeted, “What’s on the menu for today?”

“I’m teaching Delia how to make a vegetarian omelet,” Barbara informed her, “Since she’s vegan and all,”

“I thought those were two different things,” Lydia remarked, raising a brow in their direction.

“Oh they are,” Delia said, “But I need to be able to feed my family, right? Even if it means handling a few eggs now and then. Besides, Adam explained to me that chickens actually lay eggs all the time, and by using them you’re not killing baby chicks, so it’s fine.”

Lydia refrained from rolling her eyes, “Right, so what’s the veg in this vegetarian omelet?”

“Peppers, spinach, onion, and tomatoes,”Barbara replied lightly, flipping it in the pan with practiced ease, “I remember how much you liked it the last time I made it.”

“Sounds good,”

“Would you like cheese?” Barbara asked, glancing over her shoulder at her adopted daughter.

“Sure, why not?” Lydia replied, taking a small amount of pleasure in the way Delia paled ever so slightly at the mention of cheese.

“Cheddar or american?”

“How about both?” Lydia raised a brow, “I’m feeling high cholesterol today,”

“Good choice,” Barbara commented, adding the mixture and folding the meal over on itself. She let it sit in the pan a moment longer to melt the cheese properly before plating it and setting it before Lydia with a knife and fork, “So,” Barbara began as she watched Lydia dig in, “What are your plans for today?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia said through a forkful of food, “I was thinking I’d maybe head to the cemetery, take some pictures, come back and do some developing. Y’know,” she shrugged, “Just another normal day,”

“Well,” Barbara shrugged, seemingly helpless to conceal how she didn’t find the prospect of Lydia spending all day alone but knowing better than to say anything because it only provided more incentive, “At least you’ll be getting some fresh air. Oh, that reminds me, Adam said he had something for you. Why don’t you go and see him before you head out?”

Lydia nodded, quickly finishing the rest of her breakfast and depositing the plate and cutlery in the sink before heading back up to the attic. Adam had been sequestering himself up there a lot as of late. Barbara had said it had something to do with his latest hobby, though what precisely that hobby was remained unspoken as of yet.

“Adam?” Lydia knocked on the door and headed in, “You in here?”

“Of course Lydia!” Adam replied, standing in a fairly odd place in the space the Maitlands had to themselves, “I was just going to head down and look for you. I’ve got a surprise,”

“I hope it’s a good one,” Lydia laughed. Adam’s last attempt at a surprise for her was to try and restore an old dresser she’d brought home off the sidewalk. He’d done it, but in his attempt to re-stain the piece of furniture it turned out a little more off putting than he’d envisioned. Lydia actually liked it _better_ because of that, but Adam had been sore about it for weeks.

“Actually, I think it’s some of my best work yet,” Adam said, very much excited by the prospect of the reveal, “Well, I know Barbara hasn’t told you what I’ve been up to the last couple of weeks, but I really wanted it to be a surprise. So, here it goes; I’ve taken up sewing,”

“Sewing?” Lydia cocked her head to the side, “Like, bolts of fabric, machines and needles type sewing?”

“Exactly!” Adam nodded, “And, it took a while to get it exactly the way I wanted it but,” and here he stepped aside to reveal her surprise, “Ta da!”

What Adam had apparently made was a blood red poncho, complete with purple lining and a black spiderweb pattern that decorated both sides. Normally, Lydia would have preferred black as a general rule. But besides the fact that Adam had made it, it actually looked amazing. And it was still creepy and kooky enough to fit in with her general aesthetic. She wouldn’t mind incorporating more colors into her wardrobe if they could do it like this.

“Wow Adam,” Lydia found it hard to speak, genuinely touched by his efforts, “This is amazing. Thank you,”

“I figured it would be something to help ward off the chill,” Adam returned, “You know those cold Connecticut days,”

“I love it,” Lydia said, walking over to the dress form and pulling the poncho off to put it on herself, “How do I look?” she asked him, giving a little twirl to show the garment off.

“You look beautiful,” Adam said sincerely, “And, I added a hood you can tuck in between the lining for when it gets less than picturesque. So, where are you headed to today?”

“The cemetery,” Lydia answered, “I’m gonna try and take some more pictures. Do you want me to check up on your headstones? Make sure they're still in good shape?”

“If you wouldn't mind,” Adam replied, “Do you think it's weird I'm comfortable with the fact that I'm concerned with my headstone Lydia? I think it's weird.”

“Not at all,” Lydia assured him, “I spent a good deal of time being concerned about my headstone, how it would look, how it might degrade over time, and I’m still alive so,” Lydia shrugged, “It’s fine,”

Adam paused for a moment, taking in her words, “Um… Lydia,” he began, clearly feeling awkwardly about what she’d revealed, “You don’t… what I mean is…”

“I do still think about it sometimes,” Lydia answered his unspoken question, “But more in the sense of, when I eventually die, not in the sense of, this is how I want it to look after I’m gone if that makes sense? I still like funerary art, but I’m not necessarily thinking about it in relation to a forthcoming demise. I’m not tempted to throw myself off the roof anymore,”

“Well,” Adam tried to be cheerful and upbeat about it, though he was still visibly uncomfortable with just how comfortable Lydia was with death, ironic considering out of the two of them he was the ghost, “I guess that’s… nice? I mean,” he cleared his throat, “I support you no matter what, but remember-”

“Being dead doesn’t solve anything,” Lydia finished with an indulgent smile, “I know. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Alright,” Adam nodded, “But be careful, it’s supposed to rain at some point today,”

“All the more reason to spend the day outside, right?” Lydia shot him a smile as she headed out the door.

BJ BJ BJ

Winter River was a sleepy little town even on its busiest days, and coupled with the impending storm and Lydia’s outsider attire, she was given a wide berth regardless. But that suited her just fine. It was a wonderfully gloomy day with the sky so overcast and melancholic. The town was quiet, and peaceful. Just the way Lydia liked it. She made sure she had enough supplies and began making her way to the cemetery.

Much like many small colonial towns, Winter River denizens didn’t precisely like to think about their relationship with death. It was old, and it was as much a part of their lives as the rising or setting of the sun or the phases of the moon, and yet, people tried too hard not to pay it much mind. Which meant the Winter River Cemetery was set a good distance away from where anyone currently lived, sometimes one could find old timbers of historical buildings that had been left to rot scattered between the sections of the path that led to the cemetery, evidence that death had once been closer to the mind of the Winter River denizens, but that that time had long since passed.

Lydia liked the wooded pathway to the cemetery, it was peaceful, serene, and usually quiet. But today as she started down the path she couldn’t help the nagging feeling something within the trees was watching her, _preying_ on her. But that was just ridiculous. There was nothing in these woods that would be hunting at this time of day, even if the weather may have been confusing. And yet, the feeling persisted. A flash of something caught her eye and Lydia paused. What was it she'd seen in the shadows of the trees?

“Well, well, well,” a voice growled from behind her. Lydia turned around and gasped. Beetlejuice leaned against a tree, still as gross and grimy as she remembered but was she mistaken or did his hair look more like… fur? “If it isn’t Little Red Riding Babes,” he growled as he smirked at her, “Now what brings you out to these woods?”

Lydia raised her brow at him, and noticed something odd. His normally more human looking ears were not so human anymore. And, was that a _tail_ she saw swishing behind him? What was his aim?

“Why, I’m visiting my grandmother,” she replied, voice dripping in honey and syrup, “And I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,”

“Well that’s all well and good,” Beetlejuice replied, “But why not pick some flowers for your darling grandmama?”

“I’m afraid she’s allergic,” Lydia simpered, “And I really should be going,”

“Well let’s walk a while,” Beetlejuice offered, “So we won’t be strangers anymore,”

“Why Mister Wolf,” Lydia gasped, “How forward,”

“Well darlin’,” he purred at her, “I don’t think a pretty lil thing like you should go walkin’ in these woods by yerself. So, I’ll make sure nothin’ bad happens to ya,”

“I don’t know…” she stuck her lip out and pretended to think about it, “But I suppose it would be safer than walking alone,” she offered him her arm, “Shall we?”

BJ BJ BJ

They walked along, and Lydia didn’t have to be a genius to know the path to the old cemetery wasn’t this long and winding. More of his magic at work, but she couldn’t complain. Still, she wondered what he was playing at, or maybe he was just acting in accordance with her outfit. That was also a distinct possibility.

“Now they say the wolves are the ones ya need to worry about,” Beetlejuice chattered on, “But that’s a lie. See, wolves you can always trust to hunt their prey,”

“Then what _would_ you say is the most dangerous thing in these woods, Mister Wolf?” Lydia simpered, batting doey eyes at him.

“The hunters ‘course,” Beetlejuice informed her, ears pricking as though the very mention of one could summon them, “See, they pretend they’re the good guys, when deep down, they’re just the same as a wolf.”

“I don’t see how,” Lydia parried, “They bring food, they bring safety, warmth, things we can trade, things we can sell.”

“And then, they use yer dependency on their skills to get exactly what they want,” Beej leered at her, “And it ain’t until too late you realize yer the prey,”

“Mister Wolf, I get the feeling it’s not the huntsmen I should be worried about right now,” Lydia glanced at him, “The woods aren’t usually this deep,”

“Aren’t they?” Beetlejuice parried, “Seems we must have wandered off the path…”

Lydia looked down to find that indeed, they had. That little shit, she hadn’t even _noticed_. She felt his gaze stick to her body like a humid New York summer, sticky and palpable and somewhat oppressive. He was sizing her up, and licking his lips like he was about to eat her whole.

“I…” she began, stumbling back a few steps, “Mister Wolf, I think I should go now,”

“Go? But we were having so much _fun_ ,” the way it came out sounded like a threat, “And we’re about to have more,” his eyes shone with predatory light, “Run Little Red,” he growled, “Because this wolf’s _hungry_ ”

She bolted, running through the trees blindly; uncaring of where she went so long as it put distance between her and him. Her heart pounded, blood thundering in her ears, all other thoughts except for fleeing forgotten. And as she crashed noisily through the underbrush she could still feel him. Figures he wouldn’t play fair. But if she could just reach the cemetery, she knew she’d be safe. Well, safer than she was right now at any rate. He was toying with her, snapping random branches in order to cause her to veer off in another direction, or confuse her about how close he may have been. But while he was cheating, he wasn’t bored yet. He was loving the thrill of the chase, and Lydia knew that was the only reason it was still going on. He was a demon, and he was everywhere. He could be, either by himself or in multitudes. One little living girl certainly didn’t stand a chance against him.

She was almost there, the gates of the old burying ground in sight when something pounced on her, throwing heavy weight against her comparatively slighter form. Lydia was nearly knocked unconscious by the impact of her head against the ground. In and out her vision swam, then she felt something grab her by the scruff of her poncho and begin dragging her back into the woods. She passed out before she could think of just what it was. When she woke, she found herself in a bed, in what looked to be a little one room cottage. Strange, that… wasn’t…

But before she could think of anything else she noticed what looked to be a little old lady reaching through the haze and putting a cool hand to her forehead.

“Are you alright?” it certainly _sounded_ like a feeble old woman, “Why, you nearly gave me a heart attack darling,”

Lydia squinted, vision still not completely clear, “Grandma?” she questioned.

“Why, who else would it be?” the other laughed.

“But…” her grandmother was _dead_ and there was absolutely no way she’d been dragged off to the Netherworld a second time. Lydia groaned and rubbed at her eyes, and suddenly everything was clear.

“Why grandma,” Lydia put on her best concerned face, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Why would you say that?” the granny looked at her from over spectacles perched comically at the end of her nose, two odd tufts of so called hair sticking out from under a nightcap, “I’m as fit as a fiddle,”

“I don’t think you are,” Lydia continued, tone still worried, “I mean look at you, what big eyes you have,”

“All the better to see you with my dear,” the grandmother replied.

“What big ears you have,” Lydia pressed, now realizing those tufts were not tufts at all but rather ears pressed down by the nightcap and flickering uncomfortably at the position.

“All the better to hear you with, my _dear_ ,” Granny’s smile stretched wide, and tight, like there was something she wanted to say but was holding her tongue.

Lydia took a deep breath and smirked, “Why grandma,” she simpered, “What big _teeth_ you have,”

“All the better to _eat_ you with, baby,” the growl that came out was undoubtedly _not_ that of a feeble old woman. But there had never been any feeble old woman in the first place. Beetlejuice leapt on top of her, pinning her to the bed, grin absolutely feral, “And believe me,” he told her, vanishing the disguise altogether, “I’m _starving_ ,”

“Wait,” Lydia halted him as he bent down over her, salivating. Immediately he pulled away and cocked his head to the side,

“What?” he groused, “Isn’t this-”

“Yes,” Lydia silenced him, “Just one thing,”

“And that is?”

“The fur,” she told him, “and the tail, and ears,”

“One, that’s three things, and two; what about ‘em?”

Lydia smirked again and grabbed hold of his tie, kissing him deeply before answering him, “Keep them,” she ordered.

His answering grin was positively demonic, “As my wife commands,”

BJ BJ BJ

By the time Lydia returned home to the house on the hill it was nearly dusk. All four of her parents stood worriedly by the windows, clearly keeping an eye out for her. Beetlejuice had offered to just pop her back home, but considering he was her dirty little secret (a fact he liked very much) Lydia had had to decline. And so, on unsteady and somewhat sore legs, she had made the journey home.

“Lydia!” the adults exclaimed upon her entry through the door, sweeping her up in plenty of hugs as though she’d been gone days instead of mere hours.

“Where were you?” her father demanded, “You’ve been gone all day!”

“I was out,” Lydia replied evasively, “Aren’t you the one who told me I needed to get out more?”

“But with a storm that has warnings of flash flooding?” Barbara interjected, “Lydia we were just worried about you.”

Lydia sighed, “I know,” she admitted, “It just means you care.” then she shrugged, “To be completely honest, I totally forgot there was even supposed to _be_ a storm,”

“Well, you made it home just in time,” Adam said, watching as thunder clapped and the rain suddenly came pouring down, “What were you doing out there anyways?”

“Well…” Lydia began, putting a hand to her neck, “I guess I just got lost in the woods.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Thank you so much for reading, until next time Netherlings!


End file.
